


Baby, I'm Gifted (News For You)

by RiverDelta



Category: Dumbing of Age
Genre: F/F, Post-Time Skip, Redemption
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-09 16:51:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19480057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverDelta/pseuds/RiverDelta
Summary: It's been a year since Joyce Brown moved into her dorm. Carla Rutten is on top of the world. She's smart, she's cool, she's rich as hell, and she's a motherfucking goddess. She's got an Engineering/Computer Science degree well on its way, and she's ready to rock the world.Mary Bradford, however, has met God in a dream, learned that God thinks she's an awful person, and seen her entire life slowly disintegrate.She's been a hypocrite, a bigot, a blackmailer, and generally awful, and things have imploded hard for her. She's eaten her humble pie a while ago.The two are about to cross paths in the lunchroom.





	1. Skin in the Game

_ “Arrogant, anti-charismatic national embarrassment known as President John Adams (shit)...”  _ Carla Rutten heard the sound of a cut rap from a forgotten Youtube video that was meant to go into a musical that, inexplicably, was still playing so many states over. Broadway. Carla blinked a few times and dug her phone out of her pocket to change the song.  _ “I got gas in the tank, I got money in the bank, I got news for you, baby, you’re looking at the Man...Who’s the man with the plan? I’m the Man...” _

_ The Man  _ by the Killers. Better. Carla reached up to her face and drew the glasses off. She blinked a few more times and used the fringes of her top to try and clean them off. No water, but it’d have to do. Glasses on.  _ “They kiss on the ring, I carry the crown...I know the direction, the lay of the land...”  _ Gas in the tank, money in the bank. Sounded good. Carla smiled, her plump lips pursing as she took a gentle swig of Half-Dr. Pepper-Half-Coca Cola.  _ “Got news for you, baby, you’re looking at the man...” _

Was it possible to be looking at the Man without looking at  _ a  _ man? Could a woman be the Man? That sounded about right, at least. She’d heard people call women ‘the Man’ before. You know, figuratively. It was an expression. Whatever, this was probably not worth thinking too deeply about. She put her phone back in her pocket. Luckily, this pair of short shorts happened to have pockets deep enough to carry a phone. Thank God.

_ “USDA, certified  _ **_lean.”_ ** Carla finished her last bite of hastily-assembled salad and took one brief look at the remnants of the brisket on the other plate. She saw the crumbs that had once constituted part of a chocolate chip cookie. She ate it first. You know, like a civilized person. That was how you got yourself to go and get your ass to the dining hall. If she really wanted to, she could spend her massive amounts of money on UberEats, but socialization, right?

Even if, obviously, she knew she was better than everyone else for a  _ fact.  _

Still, Carla looked around the table. Empty seats. “Wonder where Marcie and Malaya’ve been?” She muttered to herself. The doors to the dining hall creaked open, and a woman entered the room. She had stringy black hair. Sweatshirt on with a band graphic in grey that Carla’d never heard of. More importantly, she’d never  _ bothered  _ to hear about that band. It was probably a shit band.

Her eyes had bags underneath them, she wore sweatpants and dirtied sneakers. Still, her sharp chin and gaunt cheeks were all but unmistakable. Mary Bradford - and she looked like shit. Mary walked over to the table. She sat down two chairs over. Carla stood up. “Yeah, this is the part where I book it.” She said, disgust in her tone. “I mean, if you want.” Mary mumbled. Carla stopped and paused her music. “You’re not going to follow me? Let me guess. It’s because God’s given you the strength to tolerate disgusting nonbelievers so long as you don’t spend too much time around ‘em. Right?”

“Yeah, I got over that.” Mary said. “You got over blackmailing people and being a real bigoted piece of shit to me last year? You got over that _?”  _ Carla asked, iron in all of it, especially that last word. “Yeah, I was.” Mary said. Carla sat back down. “Okay, what’s your problem? Are you lying to try and fuck with me? Is this a bullshit trick?” Carla asked. Mary shook her head. “Look, if I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.” Mary said.

Carla noticed that Mary hadn’t actually brought over a plate of food. If this was some kind of psychological warfare tactic, it wasn’t very well thought-out. “Yeah, well, try me. I want to see how cliche your shitty sob story is. I’m not going to forgive you for being awful just because you look depressed and shit now.” Carla said. Carla felt her facial expression harden. “Look, Carla, can I just...be honest with you? Before I tell you my sob story or whatever.” Mary said.

“Okay. Look, Carla? I’m sorry. I’m really, honestly sorry.” Mary said. “Who told you to say that?” Carla said. “God.” Mary mumbled. “God what?” Carla asked. “God I’m a bitch? God I’m a heathen? God I’m a pain in the ass? The last one’s totally me, by the way. It’s my thing.” Carla smirked a bit at that. “No. God herself told me that I was a piece of shit, and that I need to shape up. It’s a thing in the Bible. She talks to people in dreams.

“She told me I was a hypocrite trying to act better than other people. I tried to, you know, mend ties with everyone. Joyce, Billie...Nobody cared. Nobody took me seriously. Art school beat the anime out of me. I stopped studying. I stopped going to classes. I stopped caring. Asher offered me some pot when I first came here. I told him off. This year, I started buying his shit.” Mary’s voice was level. It was monotone. It was entirely lifeless.

“Wait, Mary Bradford became a pothead who God had to tell to go fuck herself? Oh my god. I can smell it on you, by the way. You know, just so you know.” Carla said, some smugness creeping into her voice. “Yeah.” Mary said, simply and to the point. “Look, Carla, I don’t have anything. I’m going to burn out in college. I have no stability, no sobriety, no skill in art, I probably won’t get a degree. My faith was garbage. You’re the only person who’s talking to me. Please. Carla.”

“Look, if it took God...or, I guess, your dream, but same thing...telling you you needed to shape up to make you not be an awful, manipulative bitch, you probably weren’t that great under the surface anyway.” Carla said, bluntly. “Please, Carla, I...like you. Now. I was awful, but I’m trying not to be...” Mary said, her voice straining. “Bullshit, you don’t even know me.” Carla said. “What do you want, Carla? I’ll...I’ll give you anything. If you need help, I can give it to you. There has to be something I can do to make it all up, right?” Mary asked, hastily and with a desperate note to her voice.

“Oh, gee, what  _ couldn’t  _ the pothead depressive with a past of zealous bullying and incredible bigotry do for me, the amazing roller derby champion technical wizard with more money than God?” Carla muttered. “Look, I’m in the mood for some more cookies. Go snag some for me if you’re going to be weird anyway.” Mary nodded, stood up, and started to walk towards the cookie plate on one of the tables.

Carla wondered to herself.  _ Why is she always weird? Different kind of weird. Still weird.  _ Mary returned with two cookies, handing them both to Carla. “This isn’t, like, a stalker thing where you’re going to sneak into my dorm and steal my hair to try and grow a Carla clone, right? Look, I’ve played the DLC to  _ Saints’ Row 3.  _ That just leads to a roided out psycho me. Also, you know, don’t be a creepy stalker. Obviously.”

“...I wasn’t going to?” Mary said, sounding more confused than anything else about the subject. “Then what  _ do  _ you do?” Carla asked. “I used to draw.” Mary shrugged. “Oh, what, like pictures of Sonic the Hedgehog bowing down to Jesus on the cross while Ronald Reagan weeps with pride?” Carla said. “...I actually did draw Sonic bowing down to the cross, but there wasn’t Jesus and my Reagan picture was separate. I was...dumb last year.” Mary said.

“...Wait, you really drew that?” Carla asked, smirking before cracking up into full-blown laughter. Mary nodded and smiled a bit. “I can show you, if you want.” She said. Carla stopped. “Yeah, sure. Let’s see your weird-ass Jesus anime drawings. I swear to God, though, if this is a trick, you’re so fucked.” Carla said. “Look, have I ever been that subtle?” Mary asked, dryly. “Fair.” Carla shrugged and stood up. “Let’s roll.” Carla said.


	2. Awkwardly Walking

Carla found herself standing up and starting to walk out of the room, opening the doors. She hastily looked around. “Hopefully nobody around here’s going to see me hanging out with you.” She noted under her breath. Mary gave her a bit of a stink eye at that, and for a second it reminded her of old habits. “Yeah, not taking it back.” Carla said. She pushed her way down the halls of Indiana University, Mary quietly following her.

“This has to be a plan to get me punished for being an affront against God or something, right?” She asked, only half-joking. Okay, maybe it was more like a quarter-joke or something. The general idea was clear. “This isn’t you. This isn’t how you act. This isn’t what you  _ do?  _ If you could just turn this off, why haven’t you?” She asked. Mary, still about a half-step behind Carla, looked away for a bit.

It took about fifteen solid seconds of walking for Mary to actually respond. “It wasn’t really me turning it off. It was more like...A power outage? You know how when you turn off a light you can always turn it back on whenever, and it’s a pretty small-scale thing? This isn’t like that. This was a power outage.” Mary said. “I mean, don’t they always fix power outages, though? Like, come on, Mary. Are you saying you’ll revert to being a toxic, bigoted piece of shit?”

“Fine, whatever, think of it as...a nuclear power plant explosion. The plant’s gone critical, everybody’s dead, the entire electric system is absolutely screwed.” Mary said. “...Huh, so I guess now I can confirm whether your parents let you play  _ SimCity 4 _ as a kid, right?” Carla asked. Mary nodded, but she didn’t smile. At least that was a constant, Carla thought. “Look, I’m sorry, Carla, for bullying you and shitting on you for being a woman.”

“I kinda doubt you really believe that.” Carla said, as the two continued walking. “What do I have to do to convince you?” Mary asked. Carla looked away. “I dunno, maybe you could give me a piece of embarrassing personal information I could hold over your head?” Carla said. “Well, I’m showing you my anime drawing of Sonic the Hedgehog kneeling in front of the cross, so I think that counts. If you wanna see my weird repressed Christian porn, we can do that. I’ve got fuck-all to lose.” Mary muttered.

“Yeah, fair enough, I guess. Also, holy shit, Christian repressed porn? I might need to go through your whole backlog or whatever, then.” Carla said. Carla turned to Mary. “You’re a fan of fingering through pages, then?” She asked, the faintest wisp of a smile starting to appear on her face. “Nah, not into that.” Carla said. “Fingering, jerking...I don’t really do that. Not my thing. Gross human stuff.”

“...Human stuff? Aren’t you human?” Mary asked. “...Yeah, but, like I told Sal a while ago, I try to keep mental distance from the rest of my species to prevent me hacking into the fuckin’ Air Force WarGames style and just blowing this planet to kingdom come, you know?” Carla said, chuckling lightly. “You’re joking, right?” Mary asked, and for once she actually sounded a little afraid. “Yeah, but I still don’t like to think of myself as human in the same way that you guys are. Gives me distance. Like I said.”

“Yeah, I can relate to that.” Mary muttered. “What?” Carla asked. “Kinda couldn’t hear you. It’s loud.” She clarified. “I can relate to that.” Mary said again. “I can relate to keeping distance between yourself and humanity. I just thought of myself as saintly instead of whatever you’re doing.” She said. “Yeah, well, robots aren’t a myth.” Carla said. “You’re just trying to bug me, aren’t you?” Mary asked.

“Yeah, but I always do that, so if I were you I’d get pretty used to it, you know?” Carla said, shrugging and continuing to walk. “Mary, if you’re into me, then it’s not gonna happen. Even putting aside you being utterly awful, I’m still asexual.” Carla said. Mary started to walk a bit faster, so she was standing properly at Carla’s side. Well, she was standing there, literally, not figuratively. She wasn’t in some kind of feudal pact with Carla. Carla wasn’t the Queen in the North.

“Asexual? Like with microbes?” Mary asked, starting to smile. Her smile was a shadowy echo of her vile, shit-eating grin that Carla remembered all too well. It was hard to remember just a smile, but Mary’s smile had been burned into her brain, in a part of that mind that she didn’t touch very much. “...Never heard that one before. Seriously, no, I just don’t have any interest in sex.”

“So you don’t date anyone?” Mary asked. “I date girls, but we don’t fuck. It’s like a deep personal connection thing. Rarely happens. My pants are basically on all the time.” Mary nodded a bit at that. “Huh. Who’re you dating now?” Mary asked. “...It’s this polyamory thing with Malaya and Marcie.” Carla said. “Who?” Mary asked. “Actually cool people. Malaya and Marcie handle the gross stuff with each other, so I kinda just do my thing.”

“Wait, what’s polyamory?” Mary asked. “It’s when three people - or more, I guess - date one another at the same time.” Carla said. “So it’s like what the Mormons do.” Mary said. “No, it’s...It’s about communication, and it’s equal. It’s not a thing where one man has multiple wives.” Finally, the two of them reached Mary’s door, which had been shorn of the previous sketchbook drawings on it. All it had was a white board with ‘Mary’ written on the front.

Mary reached into her pocket. Carla still had to reconcile the image of the Mary she knew who dressed respectably with this haggard mess in sweat pants and a band T-shirt for a band that Carla suspected Mary’s family probably wouldn’t even allow her to listen to the CDs of that band. Wait, CDs? Fuck, who used those anymore? Hell, even iTunes was getting pretty outpaced by Spotify and Ruttech Bass. So MP3 files were definitely on the way out, that was for sure.

Mary drew from her pocket to take a ring of keys. Well, technically, Carla noticed one key on a ring. It was a bare ring. If key rings were people, this key ring would be bland and quite possibly work as a paralegal. Carla started to crack up at that, barely holding in her laughter. “...What are you laughing about?” Mary asked. “It was this dumb thing about how your key ring is lonely and would be a paralegal or some shit if it was a person...” Carla said.

“Yeah, that isn’t actually that funny. Where’d you get your sense of humor?  _ Ultra Car? _ ” Mary asked. “...Wait, you know about  _ Ultra Car?”  _ Carla asked. “Yeah. My parents never let me watch it, so I spent a lot of my first year in college watching shows I missed.” Mary explained. “...But the one time you talked about  _ Dexter and Monkey Master, Ultra Car,  _ and shit, you called them all ‘tools of the Satanic elite’s infiltration of Christian society’. You know, when you were super drunk.” Carla said.

“Yeah, well, I’m kind of a hypocrite.” Mary noted. “What aren’t you?” Carla said. Mary pushed the door open, and Carla saw Mary’s room.


End file.
